Raquel Byrnes

Levine stood, hands at his hips, and sighed.

  “So you think Phillip used this to drug Simon two years ago? To what end?”

  “To frame him for Amanna’s death, I think. I think he was the one having an affair with her.”

  “I don’t know, Ms. Ryan. This would be easier to work with had you left this where it was.” Levine nodded to the medicine bottle. “If it doesn’t have his prints, all we have is your word that you found it in his room.”

  “Yes, but there has to be some way to prove…” The cold trickle of dread dripped down my spine. I had not told Levine where I found the bottle. “To prove…” Two years ago, Dr. Fliven said that the sheriff helped Tobias through one of his fits caused by lack of medication. Around the time of Amanna’s death and Simon’s first blackout.

  “Is something wrong?” Levine’s gaze held mine, his jaw set. “Ms. Ryan?”

  “I—I’m just a little overwhelmed by all of this.” Levine had brought someone in from Seattle to inspect Amanna’s body instead of having Dr. Fliven do it. What if the reason he brought in an outsider wasn’t to protect the investigation, but to plant evidence? Evidence that Davenport was able to quash? At the station, he’d said that “poisoning was assault.” How would he know about that?

  “I think you should sit back down.”

  “No, I really need some air.” What if Levine wanted a second chance at Simon and was using the anniversary of Amanna’s death to do it? I reached for the door. But why? I turned, struggled with the doorknob, when the click of his revolver’s hammer stopped me cold.

  “How did you figure it out, Rosetta?”

  “I just now…” A sob escaped me. I shook where I stood.

  “The twins were an accident,” Levine said quietly.

  “Please, Sheriff…” I faced him, my lip trembling. “Please don’t do this.”

  “I wanted to take her away, to talk to her, but the kids got into the pitcher and…” His voice trailed off, and he let out an anguished moan. “I never meant to hurt either of them.”

  “Sheriff—”

  “I didn’t kill her!” Levine’s face contorted from anger to sadness and back to anger. “On the cliffs, we fought, but I would never…” He took in a ragged breath. “We were arguing one moment, she swiped at me, and the next she was just gone. Like the night had swallowed her.”

  “You flooded the evidence room. To get rid of your own skin evidence. The fact that it made Simon look incredibly guilty was just a bonus.” I gasped.

  A noise to the right of him caught my attention, and then her little face peered out at me from behind a shelf in the corner of the room. Lavender, her eyes wide as she saw Levine’s gun pointed at me. What was she doing here? Why wasn’t she on her way to Seattle with Tuttle? I shook my head, just barely, but she nodded. She put a finger to her quivering mouth.

  Shhh.

  “And the creepy rituals and the book in Lavender’s room?” I snapped, desperate to keep him from noticing her. “You terrorized her. You made her believe her brother was speaking to her from the grave!”

  Levine’s gaze shifted back to me, his lips pressed to a white line. “I paid a gypsy to do that. It was easy to convince one. Everyone knows the gypsies hate Simon. He left the notes that were supposedly from Lucien…he even whispered to her in the forest. It was easy. She’s always alone and so impressionable.” He took a step toward me. “No one would have questioned if Simon was driven to throw himself from the cliffs that his wife died at, by their black magic.”

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” I cried and edged nearer to a shelf next to us. The solvent bottles and tools rattled when I bumped it. Lavender crawled nearer the door.

  “Where do you think—” A loud crash at the back door gave me a split second, and I threw myself at the shelves, bringing them down on Levine, the glass and metal crashing to the floor around him. He fell to the floor, his gaze brushing Lavender, and he registered shock. “What is she…”

  “Get out, Lala!” I yelled.

  She pushed through the bottom half of the door, and I followed, barely skirting through in my panic before Levine fired a shot. It splintered the frame next to my hand, but I was already scrambling to my feet.

  “No,” he yelled, lunging towards us.

  I ran with her in my arms towards the kitchen door, my frantic cries echoing in my ears.

  Lavender clung to me, sobbing as I slammed the door shut. I threw the lock. In the window, Levine’s form rounded the corner of the tree line heading for us.

  “Go, baby,” I screamed. “Hide!”

  I ran to the front doors, my hand closing on the deadbolt, flipping it a millisecond before Levine slammed against it. He banged on the door, shaking it in its frame.

  “Rosetta!”

  I stumbled back, terrified, crawling on my hands and heels until I hit the table in the foyer. Glancing around, I saw the ruffle of Lavender’s dress snake through the library door.

  “Open the door, Rosetta,” he screamed, and the door quaked with his blows. “Now!”

  On my feet, I ran back to the kitchen and grabbed the phone from the hook. I dialed with shaking hands, eyes glued to the front door. He’d stopped banging. I froze, listening for him as the line started ringing. One. Two. And then nothing; dead.

  “No, no, no,” I slammed the receiver down, picked it up again. Still nothing. I peered out of the kitchen window, searching. The storm blew leaves and loose branches across the path.

  His face slammed against the window, and I screamed. Breath fogging the glass, he held up ripped wires. His dark gaze sent a shudder through me.

  He brought his hand back in a fist, the revolver grasped in his fingers, and then rammed it through the window. The glass shattered.

  “Stop,” I yelled, backing up. I stared with horror as he reached in, flailing for the lock. My hand closed on something on the counter. A rolling pin. I grabbed it. Stepping forward like a woodcutter, I rammed it down on his hand. “Leave us alone!”

  He screamed, yanked his hand back out. I turned, ran for the library, my gaze flitting to the top of the stairs searching for Phillip. He was gone. Behind me, I heard the sound of crashing and splintering wood as he bashed the kitchen door open. I pulled the library doors shut, locking them. One of Davenport’s canes leaned against the wingchair. I grabbed it and slid it through the looped door handles.

  “Rosetta, open this door,” he screamed. “Open it or I’ll shoot my way in!”

  Horrified, I whirled, scanning the room.

  “Lala,” I whispered. “Lala, where are you?”

  She peeked out from under the covered table, and I scooped her up. She was pale, terrified, and she shook in my arms.

  A deafening crash shook the door, and I screamed, the wood splintered from the hinges, the cane slipping. Panic squeezed out my thoughts. I clutched her to me, sobbing. Another smash and the door almost gave. I bumped into something, the faun statue.

  “Help me, sweetie.” I gasped, and we turned the fawn on its base. The hidden door puffed open, and I pushed it in propelling Lavender ahead of me. I spied the fireplace utensils and grabbed the poker. Levine burst into the library just as I pushed the passageway door back into place. It clicked leaving us in total darkness. “Go, go, go!”

  Lavender climbed the stairs, me pushing her to go faster as I looked back down the dark steps. We slipped and slid on the dusty stairs flailing in the blackness. I ran up against her. We’d hit the top.

  The door below popped open. Levine climbed, silhouetted by the light in the library. He looked up at me and our eyes locked.

  He sneered.

  “Trapped,” he shouted.

  I rammed my shoulder against the top door. Lavender and I fell through it together. Turning on my back, Levine’s form appeared at the doorway, and I kicked it into his face. He screamed and the door slammed into place. A crash followed by tumbling thuds sounded. I reached up. No lock. There was no handle, no place to shove the fireplace poker. Lavender shook
where she stood, her eyes wide.

  “That way, Lala,” I said and pushed the work table against the door, heaving and straining to slide it across.

  Levine was back at the door. He hit it hard, and it gave a little, his face and shoulder visible in the gap. “Go!”

  We pushed through the other exit, the dark greeting us with musty puffs of cold air.

  I bumped into her, knocked her down, and then grabbed her hand and ran down the corridor. I burst through the panel next to the grandfather clock in the foyer and sent the pendulum and weights clattering.

  The storm raged through the broken kitchen door. It banged against the wall with the surges of wind.

  “Lavender,” I panted. “I want you to run to your daddy’s workshop and lock the door.”

  “No,” she pled, gripping my hand with both of hers. “I want to stay with you.”

  “Lala, I need you to be brave, OK?” I shoved her into the kitchen. “Go to the lab. Pull the fire alarm.”

  She froze near the door, her face a frightened grimace.

  “Go, Lala, now!”

  She ran out. I watched until her little form disappeared around the stand of trees, out of sight, and then ran to the stairs and stopped in the middle. I gripped the fireplace poker with trembling hands, waiting.

  Levine burst through the panel, his head whipping towards the kitchen, and I shrieked.

  He looked up, lunged, and I scrambled up the steps.

  Slipping on the carpet, I fought to get my feet under me.

  His hand closed around my ankle, and I cried out, swinging with the poker. He caught it in his other hand and yanked it from my grip. I gasped, panic welling up.

  He climbed over me, his hand at my throat. Blood oozed from his nose and lip and sweat plastered his hair over his crazed eyes.

  “Where is she?” he growled.

  Sheer terror vaulted into my chest, and I screamed.

  41

  I twisted in his grip, raked my nails across his face, and he jerked, letting go just enough. I lashed out, kicking and clawing.

  “Where is Lavender,” he yelled, grabbing me by the shirt and shaking me. He pulled his arm back, cocking his fist. “Where?”

  Below us, a crash in the kitchen made him hesitate.

  And then Simon ran into the foyer, his head snapping to us on the stairs.

  “Simon!” I screamed, relief and panic whirling through me.

  Simon launched himself at us.

  Levine let go, and I scrambled upwards as he swung with the poker, slamming into Simon and sending him toppling back down the stairs.

  “No!” I hesitated on the stairs, locked with fear.

  Levine’s hand snapped out, grabbing me. He yanked on my blouse, and I cried out, clawing at the carpet.

  Then Simon was on him, his arm snaking around Levine’s neck, he slammed Levine’s face against the railing. Levine lost his grip, stunned, and I crawled up the steps.

  “Go, Rosetta.” Rage darkened Simon’s eyes. “Run.”

  Levine rammed his elbow back, connecting with Simon’s ribs. The knife wound.

  Simon yelled and lost his hold, falling back, his face a mask of pain.

  I hesitated on the landing, stomach clenched as Simon’s hand went out to catch on the rail. Crimson spread across his white shirt.

  Levine dove for me, and I jumped out of reach and ran down the hall, a sob ripping from my throat.

  I heard them shouting, the crashes of things in the hall breaking during their struggle. I ran for the third floor stairs hitting the wall as I charged up the steps. Behind me, a jarring blow sounded, and I turned.

  Levine threw Simon against the railing of the second floor, the bannister bending with a sickening crack under their weight. Simon’s fist smashed into Levine’s face, and the two of them tumbled to the floor. Simon scrambled over him, pulled back for another hit, but Levine grabbed a fallen statuette, slamming it against the side of Simon’s head.

  “Simon!” I screamed as he toppled back, his hand going to the gash on his head.

  Levine twisted, kicked, and sent Simon onto his side, groaning.

  Levine’s gaze went to me, his grimace chilling as he jumped to his feet.

  I ran up the steps, down the dark corridor, saw a door, and ran through it. The study. I turned, tried to get it shut, but Levine crashed through, and I flew against the desk, pain searing across my side. He turned, kicked the door shut, and shoved a chair under the handle.

  “Come here,” he growled and dragged me by my blouse out to the deck.

  The rain flew against us in waves of wind and leaves. A low howl tore over us, and the dark sky churned with roiling clouds. I slipped and slid on the slick wood floor, struggling as Levine yanked me with him. He whipped me to face him, my back to the railing.

  “Where is she?” he screamed and pushed me against the rusty railing. The spear points dug into my skin.

  “Levine, she’s just a little girl,” I sobbed, clinging to his hands. “W-We won’t tell anyone….”

  “You ruined everything!” He shook me, fury distorting his features. “Because of you, the kid knows, Simon knows. It was perfect. Simon pays for ruining my life, my chance at happiness with Amanna, and his waste of a cousin takes the blame for Simon’s death. The whole Hale family finally getting what it deserves!”

  I heard frantic banging as Simon threw himself at the door over and over. My name came as a muffled shout through the wood. I cried, my mind breaking with fear.

  “What did Simon do to you? What has he ever—”

  “Amanna was mine! We could have been happy, but she refused to leave him. And now…” He leaned me further over the edge. “Now he will pay with what he loves.”

  “Please don’t hurt Lavender,” I begged.

  “Amanna ended it with us because of her. That brat must have been sneaking around again,” he snarled. He brought his mouth to my ear. “She saw me with her mother one night. Out by the cemetery.”

  Her secret. The obliterated mouths of her mother in the pictures. Lies and fear.

  “She won’t say anything.” The point of the rail sent a jagged rush of pain through me, and I cried out.

  “Yes, she will. But I’m willing to bet that people believe that Simon, with his guilt and his psychotic breaks, took you and Lavender with him over the edge.”

  I let go of his hands, pawed frantically at the railing, desperate to stop the agony of the point in my back.

  A piece broke off in my hand. I stabbed at Levine with it, driving the point into his chest. He yelled and staggered back, blood pouring from the wound just below his collar bone. He threw me to the floor just as the door in the study flew open.

  “Rosetta!”

  “You can’t save this one, either!” Levine shouted and grabbed a section of the railing. It came off in his hand, a wrought iron spear. “I’m not losing everything to you again.”

  Simon hurled himself at Levine, the fire poker cutting through the night with a whoosh. The two weapons clashed, a spark flicking off them. They slashed at each other, metal clanging over the low rumble of thunder. Simon sliced, ripped across Levine’s hand. Levine shouted with pain, clambered back.

  “Always second best,” Simon shouted, his face pulled into snarl. “Never quite good enough. In school, in life.” The metal rods clashed again, the sound deafening. Simon grabbed Levine by the shirt, shoved him back. Levine thrust the rod down, knocking the poker from Simon’s hand. It clattered to the wood floor.

  “You can’t take that she wanted me. For once, someone chose me over the beloved Hale son,” Levine yelled, his eyes bulging. “I was the one. I was the winner.”

  Simon ran at him, Levine pivoted and slammed him against the wall. Lightning flashed, a jagged rip in the sky, illuminating their knotted bodies. Levine thrust the railing bar across Simon’s throat, pinning him. I scrambled for the fire poker and tried to grab it, but Levine turned and kicked it out of my hands.

  Simon growled and
rammed his knee into Levine’s gut, sending him reeling backwards. The fire poker rolled beneath Levine’s feet, tripping him.

  “Stop, Levine,” Simon rasped. “Don’t do this—”

  Levine snarled, grabbed the fire poker, and swung at Simon’s head. He missed, lost his balance, and slammed back against the railing. He canted over, his eyes widening with terror as Simon’s hand swiped out to save him, but it was too late.

  The roar of thunder tore over us, drowning out my scream.

  42

  Huddled in the corner of the deck, I stared wide-eyed at the broken railing as a frigid torrent washed over me. My body quaked with shock and cold.

  Simon knelt, gathering me in his arms, and carried me into the study.

  I clutched onto him, and sobs ripped from my throat. “Is he…is he—”

  “Shh,” Simon whispered, setting me onto the desk. He reached up gently, cupped my face in his hands, and held my gaze with his. “You’re safe, love. He’s gone.”

  “Lavender,” I gasped. “She’s—”

  “She’s fine. She pulled the alarm.”

  “I—I need to see her.” I tried to push off of the desk, but he held me still, a strange look on his face. “What’s the matter?”

  “You used yourself as bait to keep her safe.” He ran his thumb along my bottom lip. “You risked your life for her.”

  “I love her,” I said simply. “She’s our Lala.”

  “Yes,” he whispered. His blue eyes held mine. “Ours.”

  ****

  Levine’s deputy, Mike, showed up after locating Davenport at the restaurant. They searched the house and found Phillip in his room, his hand around the phone. He’d crawled from the hall after I hit him with the vase, but passed out before he could call out.

  Over the next few days, as the truth came out, it was realized just how much damage Levine had caused all on Noble Island. We found a knife with his prints with O’Shay’s blood on his boat. O’Shay must have suspected Levine and confronted him, only to pay with his life. The pestle and mortar that Mrs. Tuttle gave me also had Levine’s prints underneath. He’d evidently held it while he crushed the drug he took from Tobias.